Pontypool Free Press and Herald of the Hills

NEMO. BY MRS. 1). M 0 S E L E Y. ———— CHAPTER I. GREAT excitement prevailed at The Grove,' the Misses Henley and Leslie's establishment for young ladies, one wet afternoon early in the spring, in consequence of a wedding which was to take place the following day. The bride- elect was an orphan, who had been brought up and educated by her aunt, Miss Henley, whom she had assisted for the last two or three years in the school, where she had made herself a general favourite by her gentleness and pati- ence in teaching, her judicious kindness when reproving, and her willing participation and sympathy in all childish joys and sorrows. A half-holiday had been given, and the girls were sitting in cliques round the school-room, bemoaning the rain, which came down in tor- rents, and dreading a continuation of it on the morrow, as they had been promised that if the weather proved favourable they should go to church to witness the ceremony. A group of the elder girls sat apart In a corner discussing the events of the morrow, particu- larly the ball which was to be given in ho- nour of the occasion, and to which the bro- thers of several of the young ladies had been 0 invited from a neighbouring school. In the midst of a low-voiced conversation, full of school-girl titterings, and exclamations of "How nice!" "Good gracious me!" "Did you c\"er!" seasoned by occasional slang ex- pressions, learned from brothers during the holidays, a door at the upper end of the room opened, and a tall, awkward-looking girl en- tered, amidst loud exclamations of Here's Carry Lyndhurst; now we shall know all the news." Well, Carry, exclaimed two or three of the elder girls, "how many carriages are there to be? When shall we see the dress? Do you think we shall go to church if it rains like this to-morrow ?" One question at a time, if you please," an- swered Carry, who was, for the time being, on important person, and the chief medium of com- munication between the mysteries surrounding the bridal preparations and the animated heap of curiosity contained in the school-room. There will be three carriages—that's answer to question number one. You cannot see the wedding dress, it has not arrived. Miss Henley says she shall not hear of your going to church if it rains." H Miss Henley is always in fits about our wetting our feet,'exclaimed one girl,impatiently. I wish she would order sufficient stilts for the whole school, then we could go out any weather in- stead of being stifled in this horrid room, with those horrid little brats in the corner, making such a horrid noise. However," continued the same girl," you are fortunate, Carry; come what may, in the shape of weather, you will be there in your character of chief bridesmaid." "Chief bridesmaid, indeed," exclaimed a good looking girl, in an undertone, to her com- panion did you ever see such a gawky crea- tures as Miss Holmes has chosen for her brides- maid ? Had she searched England I do not be- lieve she could have found a more awkward- looking girl." Come, Bella! I shall think you are jea- lous. For my own part, I always admire Carry; if she were only better dressed she would be fit to be an empress, with that calm, dignified man- ner of hers." An empress, indeed I think she is a dis- grace to the school, with her old-fashioned, faded clothes, and that air of mystery about her. Why doesn't she go home like other girls in the holidays ? Why doesn't she talk about her father and mother, and tell us something about them and her friends ? Why don't her friends dress her better ? She looks more like a servant than a young lady in a fashionable boarding school." Let Carry be dressed as she may, she would never look like a servant. A certain per- son told me the other day that if you talked about, and thought less of, dress, and persever ed more in your studies, it would be more ere. ditable to you; and she said she thought you as unsuitable to be a mental companion for Carry as you thought her unfit to be your walking companion." "I know who that was: old Holmes; be- cause I respectfully declined walking through the town with Carry,in that antediluvian bon- net she persists in wearing." Carry stood at the upper end of the room, utterly unconscious of the remarks that were so freely passed upon her; but even if she had heard them she would have been calmly indif- ferent. She was so much accustomed to the sarcasms of her schoolfellows that she had be- come almost invulnerable. Awkward enough Carry looked as she stood cutting tissue-paper for trimming the joints for the wedding breaktast. Although little more than fourteen, she was tall, exceeding even the usual height of a tall woman. Her figure seemed so disproportioned and ungainly that she well merited the term gawky. Her awk- ward appearance was increased by a dress too short in the waist, skirt, and arms and while all the other girls' dresses were full, puffed, and fashionable, hers was scanty, darned, and faded; but her face made full amends for de- fects of tigure-and yet it was neither hand- some, beautiful, nor pretty. The forehead was high and massive the nose small, with peculiarly pinched nostrils; the mouth, firm in repose, but, when smiling, bade fair, when the time came, to be full of womanly tenderness. The eyes were the great attraction in the face—large, bright, and haxel, intelligent, observant, and expressive; they had no seductive, sleepy shading of long lashes, but were eyes that looked fearlessly into yours, aud seemed to read your very soul, fearless of having their own read in return. The expres- sion of the whole face was full of calm, self-re- nt dignity, combined with a self-contained strange to see in one so young. ■>ars ago, Carry Lyndhurst had been Misses Henley and Leslie. Her earliest recollections were of a foster father, mother, and sister. For these seven years she I had remained at The Grove. Holiday after holiday passed without her once having a cliange,or even avisitfioiii a relative. Her schoo] bills were paid regularly by one person her clothes sent very irregularly by another. Holi- dav after holiday had passed—dreary holidays at nrst-witll such outbursts of childish grief a-* only a forlorn child experiences. Such iutcme yearnings after a home and a iiiotlier-liowever humble and poor Sileh heart gnawings when listening to the joyful anticipations and hopes of other children preparing for home. Oh the unfathomable misery of a neglected child, placed in the midst of so many inother-cared- for, home-possessing, happy children But a happier time callie. Miss Holmes felt interest- ed iu the lonely child, and directed her studies, euconraging her to perseverance, and to attain forgetfulness of her position by an earnest en- deavour to concentrate her thoughts and aims npoll a laudahle ambition to excel her school- fellows-tic)t only in study, but in self-control and cheerful God-trusting content. From a child, Carry had a passion for music. She was now the first pianist in the school, and many hours of the holidays, that were once so formi- dable in their dreariness, were now devoted to the enjoyment of the far-off dreamy moonlight music of Mendelsshon, the fire of Mozart, and tlw pathos of Handel. But now another dreary time for her was in prospect. Miss Hollnf's was about to be mar- ried, and worse than all, was going to Australia. Carry had learnt never to rebel against the in- evitable, and she went silently on her way, though dreading to tliiuk of the morrow, or the ceremony in which she was to take such a pro- minent and envied part.

CHAPTER IT. No bell was required to arouse the girls next morning. Long before daylight they were awake, and at the first peep of dawn numerous were the visits to the windows, aud great the disappointment to find, each time, rain, rain, nothing but rain. Not even enough blue sky," said oue little girl, "to make my smallest doll a frock However, as morning advanced, a tolerably brisk wind arose and tho dark cloulls drifted quickly away, leaving the sky ligliter, I and with every prospect of the fine day so much wished for and talked about. And now there is the dressing bell, and forthwilh follows bustle and confusion. There is Carry's hair to be turned up, for the first time, and elaborately plaited for the occasion, by one of the elder girls while a group of younger ones stand around, full of wonder and admiration, competing for the honour of holding the hair- pins. There were tho glossy plaits, being 11 neatly arranged ground a comb at the back of the head no puffing and drawing of hair over frizzettes, too often but indifferently covered, making huge excrescences upon the head such as nature never intended should he there, but everything was simple, ueat, and natural. The wearing of false hair was then considered some- thing dreadful, and not as almost necessary to a lady's toilet. There was then no tight strain- ing of the hair off the face, giving a masculinc appearance to all those whoso hair did not grow very low on the forehead, but it was arrauged in smooth bands below the ears-little orna- ments, elaborately made, beautifully curved, nature intended them to be seen—the hiding of which was the only defect in the then fashion- able st) Ie of dressing the hair. Oil, that doing the hair what time it takes, and space it occu- j pies in the thoughts and conversation of women! After prayers, the girls were taken in groups to see the wedding breakfast. To them, accus- tomed as they were to the simply-arranged, plain, but plentiful school fare, the tastefully decorated table, with its flowers, glass, and silver, the handsome cake, and rich dishes of all kinds, appeared to have been brought in the night from fairy land and when they were afterwards taken to see the wedding dress, they could have imagined it had been dropped by the Fairy Queen as she hastened away at the dawn, so unreal looked the pearly-white, glistening satin. subdiied with misty shadowy lace, orna- mented with starry jessamine and orange blos- soms. The mysterious room that had been kept locked from prying eyes the iiay },J now been explored, and the wedding dress seen. Blue sky and sunshine had appeared, and the girls were ready dressed in the schoolroom awaiting the order to start, and evidently ex- peeling some one, for every time the door lead- ing from the staircase was opened, eager eyes were turned towards it, and at every disappoint- ment there were low murmurs of Oh we shall have to start before sho comes 1" How- ever, at length she did come, and there were j exclamations of surprise from big and little, Carry Lyndhurst, the awkward, undeveloped girl of yesterday, had suddenly been trans- formed into a fine and well-proportioned wo- man, and it was dress, and dress alone, had made the alteration. It was one of thosechauges in a girl's life, when, just as she is merging into womanhood, a father feels, as he tenderly kisses her brow, respect for the woman mingle with his former fondling love for the child; and the mother, as she gazes with fond pride on her darling, knows there is a chain binding them 1inore closely than ever, for they are now linked by the sympathies of womanhood. Poor Carry had neither father nor mother to compliment and congratulate her upon her won- derfully improved appearance. She looked al- most handsome in her pretty white bonnet, with a scarlet japonica, that contrasted so well with her dark hair and eyes; her long, fashionably- made dress improved and added dignity to her figure whilst her white shawl toned down, and in a great measure hid, all angularities. She looked every inch a lady, refined and intel- ligent, as she stood receiving the girls' praises with a smile, free alike from embarrassment, restraint, or elation. Soon after came the order for the girls to start to church, to be there before the bridal party. What importance they all felt as they walked up the church yard, where knots of people had congregated here and there. They thought themselves only second in consequence to the bridesmaids. At length, the girls were all arranged and seated. Then how eagerly they listened for the sound of wheels it camo at last, and there was much standing on tip toe and stretching of necks towards the church i door Expectation was at its height, when footsteps and voices were heard, but such a dis- appointment followed-it was only the bride- groom and his brother who entered and placed themselves at the altar looking, as they felt, quite out of their clement, mere nonentities, all their lordly dignity suuk for once into insigni- ficance. The most self-possessed man looks and feels embarrassed on his wedding day, par- ticularly during the ceremony but he may console himself with the thought that no one looks at or thinks of him—his bride is all in all to the spectators. Again the sound of carriage 1 9 wheels No disappointment this time The bride entered, a slight, delicate looking, pretty little creature, leaning upon the arm of her god- father. The bridesmaids followed, taking their places at the altar,and theceremouycommenced, That state of holy matrimony. How many per- sons lightly and irreverently enter into without considering all the fearful responsibilities and duties it involves—without well weighing the utter forgetfulness of self required for the mutual society, help, and comfort of each other, both in prosperity and adversity- without deeply and thoughtfully feeling and under- standing all that is contained in those beautiful words, "To have and to hold, from this time forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part." Whence can a husband learn to become all that is noble, for- bearing, and tender—a wife all that becomes a chaste,God-fearing,husband-reverencing, meek, quiet matron, better than in the beautiful ser- vice our church ordains for the solemnization of matrimony ? The blessing had been given, the exhortations read, the names signed in the register, and everything had passed off as it should, with quiet, sober reverence. The bridal party re- turned to their carriages. As Carry was enter- ing into the last, she dropped her bouquet, and a middle-aged gentleman, who happened to be passiug at the time and had stopped out of curiosity for a moment, stooped and picked it up. When receiving it from him, Carry looked him straight in the face, and bowing her thanks, was startled by feeling that his face seemed quite as familiar to her as if she had seen it every day of her life whilst he, too, appeared struck with her, staring at her most intently for an instant, not in an impertinent manner, but as if he were asking himself where he could have seen that face before. All passed in a few moments, and Carry arrived home before she I had scarcely time to recover her usually calm, self-possessed manner, after returning most in- appropriate answers to remarks made to her by her companions in the carriage. So the wedding was over that which had occupied the thoughts and conversation of the girls for weeks had passed almost too quickly to he realized, and towards evening the eveut of the morning seemed to have taken place days before. But then there was the ball, an i the numerous preparations attending it. The bride and bridegroom joined iu the first quadrille, and afterwards started for London by a night train. When the brido went to change her dress, Carry accompanied her to her room to assist her. They were quite alone, and Mrs Marsden could not help noticing how divtrait and nervous Carry appeared. The usually calm girl was strangely agitated, which she attributed to sorrow at the parting and fearing she would herself become upset, she talked as much and as cheerfully as possible upon the most trivial things connected with her dress and the dancing which was going on down stairs. At length, when Mrs Marsdtn was quite ready, Carry placed her hand oil her arm, and,in a voice quivering with emotion, iw- plored her to tell her who were her parents. Before you go," entreated Carry, "tell me why 1 am not as other girls here ? No mother or father writing to me, no home to go to, worse-dressed than other girls. What is there about me that is wrong, that even when I am invited to any of the girls' homes I am not al- lowed to go ? I recollect," continued nhe, placing her hand upon her closed eye-lids as if better to reeal the past I recollect, before I came here, a kind, good couple,whom I thought to he my father and mother, who gave me all a parents' love and self-denying kindness and a girl, some years my seuior, and as I then thought i my sister. I remember going with her one day to see the coach in, and amongst the passengers who alighted was a tall, stout woman. As soon as my companion noticed her, she turned to me exclaiming, 1 Why, here's your mother My mother I thought she was speaking to someone passing by. But this woman came and kissed me, exclaiming at the same time, 'Not at all pretty what a pity That evening there were harsh words between those, who, to my grief,I learnt for the first time were only my fos- ter parents, and my mother, who talked much of someone paying for my education, and making me a lady. She said the past had better be for- gotten, and the intimacy between them and my- self cease, as she was willing and able to pay liberally for all their kindness to me. I can re- member my foster mother drawing herself np with proud digiiity, and declaring that all sho had done for me had been amply repaid by my affection, and that she would never touch a farthing of her money and, if I were to be made a lady, no previous intimacy with herself and family should ever stand in my way that henceforth, as long as I was well cared for, she and hers would be as great strangers as if she hati never uursed me when a baby, and taught me,to walk and talk. Here, lean remember my foster mother's voice quivering, and my rushing to her arms and begging her not to let me leave her. Then came the morrow, when I was taken away by her for whom I could not feel the love of a child. A long journey, and then I come here, where I have been pining ever since for the love of those good people, for a glimpse of the dear familiar faces of those to whom I have been forbidden even to write but no one can prevent my always thinking of them with the love and gratitude they deserve." Remember, Carry, you owe a child's love and duty to your mother." Has she ever performed a mother's duty to me ? Have I ever been other than a neglected, forgotten child, since she has taken me from the fostering care of others." How long Carry might have continued talk- ing in this strain it is impossible to say, but in- exorable time, which waits for no one, waited not for her. Mrs Marsden must go. She lov- ingly kissed Carry, and told her that in good I time she would learn all about herself and her position in the meantime, it signified nothing who she was that all right minded people, whose opinion was alone worth having, would judge her by her own merits. She reminded her that she had more than ordinary talent and was possessed of good common sense, and it wnnM he tier own fault if she did not, bYllealJs of these, make a position for herself whilo a conscientious performance of every duty, how- ever irksome and distasteful, would be certain to insure her own self-respect and happiness, and also the respect and good opinion of others. Another kiss, f,nd Mrs Marsden was gone, leaving Carry il such a paroxism of grief that body and soul denied almost rent asunder. She was a girl W:1O seldom indulged in tears, but now the pent-up restrained sorrow of years seemed to rush forth in one moment. She had lost a friend. Poor girl she had so few, it was almost death to part from one. But the stronger grief is, the sooner it wears itself out aud Carry was shortly again calm and .even ciieer- ful, prayerfully determining to let the future reveal the past in its own good time. Mean- while, she made up her mind to be no coward, but to look the present bra\ ely in the face, cheerfully performing her duty, and leaving the rest in God's hands. "She.called back her for- titude, and cast away desponding fears." Z), (To be continued.)

WIT AND. IEIUNIIOUR. KISSING a factory girl is a mill-privilege' when she is a auXis-factory girl. a WHAT flower is esteemed by a gentleman's ser- vant ?—The lily of the valet. A WISE man has said, Common sense makes no parade.' That is rough on soldiers. THE words by request' on a programme are con- sidered as sufficient apology for any infliction. A LADY whose son was eaten by canibals pleasantly remarked that he was killed and buried the same hour. THE man who can invent a disinfectant that will smell twice as bad as anything else known has a for- tune before him. A POET sings, and I covered her up with the kiss I gave.' Poor girl! To be hid from view by a such a remarkably open countenance. THREE little boys were thrown from a waggon re- cently, and, strange to say, escaped uninj ured, al- though the suits they wore were all kilt. THERE are fev men who have not sufficient confidcnce in the good-nature of their friends to borrow their umbrellas without asking for them. THE serpent left his trail in the Garden of Eden' but the general belief is that Eve's dress-pattern was too scanty to enable her to do likewise. Do you keep any Hamburg edging r' asks a timid n,.iss.- 'Not if we can sell it,' was the pert reply of the clerk. He kept some that day. OF all things that float I think the ship has the most pride,' said A. Why so?' asked B.—'Be- cause she's always a prowed thing,' answered A. Among the conditions of Bale" by an Irish auctioneer was the following: I Tne highest bidder to be the purchaser, unless some gentlemen bids more." MRS. AMES has a story entitled The Longest Hour of My Life." That was doubtless the hour she knew her beau was calling on another girl across the street. I HOPE I'm not so very badly dressed,' said a French provincial to a fashionable Parisian tailor. Simply covered, sir—simply covered,' was the patronising reply. Sins. Gingham isked her husband to bring home g I EOnle crash, for towels. I Certainly,' stid Gingham, crash must be cheap now, there's so much of it especially financial crash.' HE went to a neighbour's house for a cup of sour milk. 'I haven't anything but sweet milk,' said t"ll! woman, pettishly.—' I'll wait till it gets sour,' said the obliging Jouth, sinking into a chair. A PHOTOGRAPHER in one of the country towns was recently visited by a young woman, who, with sweet simplicity, asked, 'How long does it take to get your photograph after you leave your measure:" A SCOTCH parson said recently, somewhat sar- castically, of a toper, that he put an enemy into his mouth to steal away his brains, but that the enemy, after a thorough and protracted search, returned without anything. Mn.Gibbs spoke of a lady's marble brow,' whereat she was much pleased. Tibbs, perceiving what a hit Gibbs had made, and wishing to get the better of him, referred to the lady's marble head,' and was chagrined at the result. 0 A MAX went out and hanged himself the other day because a dentist told him his tooth was affected with nodular calcification of the pulp.' He left a. note to his wife, saying he didn't want to live on and give it to her and the children, A LITTLE girl was visiting the country, and for the first time witnessed the operation of milking. Watch- ing the proceeding intently for a while, she inspected the cow minutely, and then launched this poser; 4 Where do they put it in?' .-0

GIDEON OUSELEY, TIlE FEARLESS I IRISHMAN. I LECTURE BY THE REV. E. A. TELFER. On Thursday the 11th inst., the Rev. E. A. Telfcr delivered a lecture on the above subject at the Wesleyan Chapel, Abersychati. There was a large attendance, and the chair was taken by Richard Greouway, Esq., who, after a few remarks, introduced the lecturer. The llev E. A. Teifer said lie was very glad to meet tlieui once sioro amidst the mountains of Wales. Better days were coming, The Lord 91 1 is good, IIis mere) endureth for ever." r.^re- land was a land tj be beloved a b-y^liful country, magnificent mountains, splend „^ikes, lovely landscapes, aid a warm-hearte*)rave, | and generous people. He knew of + people that made better Methodists than tliejir;.ili di(l. The Irish are such a warm-hearted r,ace, full of spark, fiery, witti, litiiiioroiis gooji, firm friends, but very fiwkvvard enemies. was going to speak tha: night of an Irishman who had been twicecretted and when he spoke of that man's second creation, he hoped the Great Spirit would fire tieir hearts to be like him, when he was like lis Lord. He (the lecturer) had learned this D).Jeh about the people of Ire- land, that lie love-itliem and pity it was that there should be sorrow in so fair a land. There was mischief somevhere. Earl Grey and many others had said tiat Ireland was capable of supporting 30,000,400 of people, and yet he was afraid that many of the five or six millions, this winter, would be in grievous want. God send a happier day for Ireland and it was his opinion that the sane gospel that made Gideon Otiseley happy woald make his country happy, and would eradicate the hatred of a conquered race from the Itidi breast and that was the principle of forgveness that taught men the contentment of tin gospel. He would speak to them of the early days of Gideon Ouseley, and the wasted years—of his conversion and his life labours-a lesson for workers who love the Sa- viour and delight te do His bidding and, last of all, the eventidcof his life. That part of the story was soon told, for he worked till the evening slia,io%,s -aile(l, and he had nothing to do but rest. Gideon Ouseley was born in the year 1762, at Duunore. His father was an old Irish squire—one of the real old sort—fond of good living, good drinking, and lots of fun. He was no bigot, altlough a member of the Church of England indeed, it was said he did not be- lieve so much it religion—that the convivial habits of some ofthe priests, & the clergy of the Church of Englaid, had a bad effect upon his mind. His house was open for all they had good dinners, aid drank galore of wliisliey they wasted precous time, strength, and happi- ness. But then the old Irish squires of that day %ere all like it all(] it was only when the new religion came sweeping along that they stood upon another basis. Ho used to say that he would mako Gideon a parson, because it was a very respectable position. His mother led a very good life, read her Bible and prayed and she humbly trusted that God would take him and make a clerg)'ban of him. He learned, when young, to tpeak the Irish language, and he preached afterwards with such fluency in that tongue that it made him very popular. In his youth he was fond of reading good books, especially on Sunday evenings. The clergyman of the church where the Ouseley's worshipped had two livings, and tho consequence was that there was seldom any service in the parish church on Sunday evenings. Young Gideon used to sit and read for his mother Tillotson's Sermons and Young's Night Thoughts. He (the lecturer) would advise the young people present to profit by his example and read good i books, and not waste their time with the skiui- iiiilk literature of the present (lay. The history of their country would be better for them to study than any romance. Store the mind with truth—the good staiijina of strong truth—and the sinews of the mind will be made vigorous for the service of the Lord. When lie was about 19 years of age lie was a good Latin scholar a moral, intelligent, fine fellow. His friends thought of sending him to Dublin to study for the ministry, when a windfall in Roscommon brought the family into a large estate. Ilis fa- ther suddenly altered his mind with respect to young Gideon's d'vstiny and instead of making Ii parson of him, aid he would make him a real Irisii squire of tile oici sort. Gideon soon after wooed and won 3 beautiful young lady, Miss Harriet Wells, df Wellsgrove. There was no- thing surprising in this. It was said there was no merit in all Irishman getting married, they were such an ingenious race for getting over difficulties that popping the question" became an easy matter, and very few died old bache- lors. The lecturer here gave some amusing in- stances of the method by which the sons of the Emerald Isle "pop the question." Gideon Ouseley took his wife with him to Roscommon, and the next ten years of his life may be said to have been wasted. He became the compa- nion of fools he was tho centre cf joy a model country squire a splendid hunter; a great sportsman. At his convivial meetings he drank galore of whiskey, played cards, gambled, sat into the hours of morning, and his beloved Harriet sat at home wondering why he did not come and in those weary hours she would sit and weep till her heart was crushed.People try to ape the manners of those above them the mid- dIe classes wanted their clubs like the aristo carcy and they heard of workmen's clubs. It was the club that was at the bottom of more than half the scandals we hear of in high life. It had been England's special glory amongst the empires of tbe world that she possessed the best homes under heaven. Let not the work- ing classes then spoil this reputation by imitat- ing Society. The club-house for the workingman was the bosom of his family. Home is his club, and his companions should be his wife and children. Let him not forsake them. That is the circle where he is best beloved. May this beautiful bond which binds British hearts toge- ther never be broken, but make home a little outpost of heaven—an imitation of the home at Bethany. He would say also to the young men present, make use of time if they wasted the years and days they would soon find themselves where the current of life's river flowed into the abyss, and look back with regret on the time that had been wasted for ever. lIe now came to tho great change in Gideon Ouseley's life. He had been the strong-willed, frollickiug Irish squire, who would not brook to be spoken to by any body. When he was about 30 years of age he returned to Duntnore, where he spent a short time, without any great change coming over him. One day a number of the squires dined at an hotel, and one was seen to leave the house in rather a bad temper others were trying to induce him to return, saying what he had taken as an offence had only been meant as a joke. Gideon Ouseley mixed amongst them as a kind of peace-maker, but by accident the contents of a fowling-piece which the offended Squire carried on his shoulder, went off, and shot out Gideon Ouseley's right eye. He was taken home, and lay very ill for a long time. There ho began to realise the patience and forgiveness of a woman's love. It is just like the love of Jesus—so disinterested —she forgives the past, every bit of it. She wets his parched lips she watches over him she ministers to him like an angel and after a while he becomes convalescent. One day, taking a walk, and admiring the beauties of Nature, he iiivolijiitarily said, Well, God Ainiiglity lias malie a pretty world j I wish I could love Him." His life from that time changed for the better he gave up some of his early practices, and tried to purchase peace by giving alms and frequent- ing the sacrament. He was charitably disposed, but he saw that his charity was abused. He would meet an Irish boy and give him a shil- ling, which was afterwards spent in drink. Drink was a national failing, but lie (the lec- turer) would take occasion to state that what- ever might bo said of Pope and Popery, the Irish peasant population were the most moral of the United Kingdom. Beggars were numerous. Ho had seen in London vagabonds from all parts of the world, but he never met only one Scotchman begging it) East London. He gave the fellow a shilling, and told him to take his ugly face out of London. (Laughter.) Beggars were to be met with in Ireland in numbers, es- pecially at Killarney. The teaching of the Romish Church with regard to the virtue of charity tended to encourage this sort of thing. He (the Lecturer) had been in a cathedral in Dublin-Cardinal Cullen's-and heard the Jesuit Fatherpreach a sermon from the words Charity covereth a multitude of sins." He took as an illustration the fate of Nebuchadnezzar, and handled the subject in such a way that one would have thought Nebuchadnezzar had been a rich Catholic who was turned into a beast be- cause he did not give to the poor. (Laughter.) He had never heard a sermon which produoed sueli an effect, yet it was a string of misrepre sentatiou from beginning to end. It was de- grading to teach people this wrong view of charity. To rdurn to his narrative. Shortly after Gideon Ouseley's convalescence, the 4th Irish Dragoon Guards came to Dunmore. It was Ii noble body of men-the crack regiment of Ireland. The Irish boys made foiplcudid sol- di ers they were brave as lions, and faithful comrades. Amongst these Irish Dragoons there- were many Christians, and one of them, Quarter Master Robinet, hired a large room for the sea- son in the principal public-house. On Sunday mornings a number of the soldiers attended, and the Quarter-Master preielie(i to tlieti). Ouseley went out of curiosity, and invited to dinner. There was also a man named Davies, who preached tho old-fashioned Gospel, and the result was that Ouseley was'convinced of sin. Whilst his wife one Sunday was reading to him a conversation from a book by Jarway, the elder, he sank back in his chair, clasped hi hands in prayer, cast his guilty soul upon Christ, and found peace with his Maker. lie worked for six years for the Mastea without the church telling him where to go. One Sunday evening lie addressed a funeral, telling them what Chrisi had done for him, and how happy his soul was. Oue exclaimed, Ah why do not tho priests tell us this?" The Rev Charles Graham w.-is then appointed as a feilo-v worker with him. They travelled through Ireland preaching the Gospel in some cases they were kindly re- ceived by the priests in other parts the priests incited the people:to mob them. The Lecturer gave a very vivid account of Ouseley's method 6 of working. It was reckoned that Ouseley brought into class leadership 7,044 souls. On 11 one occasion Ouseley is struck on the lip with a stone he simpl}* wipes the blood away, and calmly contiuues his sermon. He continued thus for 40 years preaching the Gospel, braving down all opposition, and defying the fury and fanaticism of the priests. After toiling for the Master, he goes down to Dublin to have an operation performed it does not succeed, aud his reason fails. His wife goes to his bedside, but he does not recognise her. On the 14th May, 1839, his reason returns, and he recognises his wife. She reads for him the 14th chapter of John—that magnificent epitome of Divine comfort for the day of trouble and the day of death. He looks round and says, "I am not afraid to die." Peace to his memory ho never counted himself a preacher, only a worker for Christ. A great trait with Ouseley was earnest- ness. To all workers for Christ, he (the Lec- turer would say Be earnest, for there are plenty of people who will not believe you unless you are earnest. Toil for the Master, and your eventide of life shall be like the close of a summer's day—you shall have rest. Peace to his memory: when the voice of death came in all its dreadfulness, it had no terrors for him. He said, "I am not afraid to die." "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me." G-od help us to live as he lived, to work as he worked, and when our toil is over we shall have rest too and in that beautiful land wo shall see Gideon Ouseley, and have rest there. The Lecturer was listened to with rapt atten- tion by a large audience, and was frequently ap- plauded during the delivery of his remarks, which were at times replete with humour, and caused outbursts of laughter. The Chairman proposed a vote of thanks to the Lecturer, which was heartily accorded. The Rev G. Holmes (Dible Christian) se- conded and tho Rev E. A. Telfer replied. The Rev J. Cole (Baptist) proposed, and the Rev L. Westlake (Wesleyan) seconded, a vote of thanks to the Chairman for presiding. Mr Greenway replied, and the proceedings were brought to a close.

VOLUNTEER PRIZE PRESENTA- TIONS. At the Town flail, on Friday evening last, the prizes won by the successful competitors of the No. 1, or Pontypool, Company of the 2nd Mon. Rilie Volunteers were presented to them in the presence of a numerous body of spectators, including many of the gentler sex," by Mrs D. Llcv,ellin. The corps, to- gether with the band, paraded- the armoury, aud marched through the town to the strains of a lively air. It had been arranged for the Garndiffaith Corps to meet them en route, but the probability of the pro- ceedings not terminating in time for them to leave by the last train home interfered with the programme. There was, however, no lack of enthusiasm, and the affair throughout was conducted in the most satisfac- tory manner possible. Major and Adjt. Camegy presided, and the other officers present were—Capts. Jacob, Llewellin and Verity; Lieuts. J. W. Green and W. A. Farr; Quarter-master Parkhurst—2nd Mon. Also, Major Hair and Surgeon O. D. Thomas, 2ud Administrative Battalion Mon. Rifle Vols., and Lieut. Bevan, 5th 11 anbury Corps. Major Carnegy remarked that he had for many years attended the annual presentation of prizes to the 1st Company of the Mon. Rifle Volunteers, and it was a pleasure to him to meet them once again, iiefore entering upon the especial business of the evening he would give them a few facts in connection with the Corps, showing the efficiency of the 6 Com- panies for the last four years. In the year 1876 there were 541 efficients and 9 non-efficients, giving a per- centage of 93.3(i efficients there were 38 proficients, and at the inspection 413 were present; during the year 92 resignations had been sent in, and there had been 78 new members; marksmen, 37. For 1877 the statistics were-efficients, 551; non efficients, 7 per- centage of efficients, 98.74 proficients, 42 present at inspection, 412; resignations, 110; joined, 102; marksmen, 34. For 1878-efficiciitg, 525 non-effi- cients, 4; per-centage of efficients, 98.20; proficients, 43: present at inspection, 429; resignations, 89; joined, 80; matksmen, 70. For 1879-efficients, 559; non-efficients, 3; per-centage of efficients, 99.46 proficients, 43 present at inspection, 433 resigna- tions, 70; joined, 103; marksmen, 49 maximum es- tablishment, 605. From these statistics it would be seen that the Corps was sensibly increasing in strength and efficiency. He might mention that as far as their last inspection was concerned, it was in every way one of the best they had ever had. This was the twentieth year of the service of the Corps. He remembered that in 1861 it was prognosticated that the Corps would not last six months. Instead, however, of breaking up, they had come wonderfully to the front. Three years afterwards they had 360 volunteers now they had a maximum establishment of 605. With regard to the prizes, he was glad to say the cup was won by one of the oldest non-commis- sioned officers in the Corps—Colour-Sergeant Clias. Humphreys. (Cheers.) They might well congratu- late him upon his 20 years' service. The two other special prizes, given for the best aggregate of six monthly competitions, by Mr David Lleweliin, were won by Sergt. T. Fletcher and Lieut. J. W. Green. He desired to remark that although they failed this year in forming an encampment, it was in every re- spect necessary to their efficiency that they should complete their battalion drills in camp. Mrs LleweHin then presented the prizes, as fol- lows :— DUILI, ATTENDANCE PRIZES, No. of Drills Value Pri J Smith w. 71 0 15 0 A Divies 69 0 13 o C Hicks 61 0 12 0 „ W Harris 46 0 10 0 Col-Sergt Humphreys 44 0 9 0 Pi-i It Willitins 40 0 7 0 11 W Jackson 38 0 7 0 Sergt R Lloyd 31 0 6 0 „ T Fletcher 33 0 6 0 CorpI H Joshua 32 0 5 0 Pri J Price 31 0 ;) 0 Sergt 1\1 Search. 30 0 5 0 Total £ 5 0 0 RECRUITS' PRIZES.—Five rounds at 200 yards. No. of Points. Value. Pri S Evans 12 0 10 0 E \\illiams 11 0 7 6 „ T Crockett 10 0 o 0 „ D Cook 8 0 2 6 11 Baker 6 0 2 6 T Jones 5 0 2 6 J Evans o 0 2 6 E Rogers. 4 0 2 6 J Thomas. 2 0 2 6 S Bennett. 2 0 2 _6__ Total £ 2 0 0 BANDMEN'S PRIZEs.-Five rounds at 200 yards. No. of Points. Value. Drummer P Jarvis 12 10 0 Bandsman E. J. Wall 11 0 10 0 „ S Tovey 10 0 7 6 „ J Watkins 9 0 5 0 G Edwards 7 0 5 0 J Flynn 5 0 5 0 Total £ 2 12 6 CORPS PRIZES.-Five rounds at 200 and 500 yards. "fiu yds. Value. Pri II Williams 13 15 2 0 0 „ A Davies 14 14 1 10 0 Sergt Search 18 10 1 5 0 Q-iuaster Parkhurst 1.1 12 .Pencil Case Col-sgt Humphreys 11 13 10 0 Pri W Rogers 15 9 0 15 0 „ W Williams 10 14 0 12 6 Sergt T Fletcher 12 11 0 10 0 Corpl M Waite 12 10 0 10 0 Pri W Cook 14 8 0 7 6 Lieut Green. 11 J.I) .Pencil Case Corpl A Cook 1-5 6 0 7 6 Pri W Harris a 12 0 5 0 „ AV W Jones 14 3 05 0 Corpl II AV Joshua, 14 2 Q 5 11 11 T Jenkins 13 2 0^0 Sergt C Keys 12 3 0 11 Corpl II Joshua 4. 10 1. of lilutton Pri J llowells 5. 8 b. of brandy C Waite 10 3.. j Price 10 3. „ J Brown 9. 4. „ Sergt R Lloyd 10 0 leg of pork Pri J Jones 7. 2 0 2 6 „ C Hicks 3. 0 0 2 6 j Sinitli 2 0 0 2 6 SPECIAL PHIZE OF XIO, given by J. C. Hanbury, Esq., was won by Col.-Sergt. Humphreys, who was success- ful in three out of six monthly competitions. SPECIAL PRIZES given by D. Lleweliin, Esq., for the best aggregate of six monthly competitions 1st prize, Sergt. T. Fletcher, silver watch, value £66: Od 2ud prize, Lieut. J. W. Green, case of surveying instru- ments, value £ 5. Quartermaster Parkhurst observed that they could not well separate that evening without returning a cordial vote of thanks to the donors of the prizes, and more especially to Mr Hanbury and Mr D. Llewellin. (Cheers.) Mr Hanbury, through his trustees when a minor, gave them an annual prize, and had ever since continued it. Mr Lleweliin had followed such a good example, and he (the speaker) was glad to say that Mrs Llewellin honoured them by presenting the prizes. He knew that all his brother volunteers felt as pleased as he did. The value of the prizes had reached their usual average, and the kind friends to whom they looked for support had forwarded their annual dona- tions, notwithstanding the fact that the hard times had been felt by all classes. It showed that those who gave their annual sums were willing supporters of the Volunteer Corps. A few years ago the Volunteer movement was in its infancy, but now it had ripened into full manhood. He wished them by their thanks to show their appreciation of hud come forward to support their cause. (Loud cheers.) The band struck up the lively tune, For they are jolly good fellows." Major Carnegy proposed a vote of thanks to Mrs Liewellin for her kindness in presenting the prizes. He hoped that for many succeeding years Mrs Lle- wenn would be able to come and give them their awards. (Applause.) The prizes given to the Volun- teers that day were principally for good shooting, and good attendance at drill had a great deal to do with good shooting. In warfare, they had to destroy the enemy as quickly as possible, although it might be thought a blood-thirsty notion. Many whom they knew from Pontypool, and some who had been mem- bers of that Corps, had recently experienced this within the last twelve months. That one of those dis- tinguished himself at llorke's Drift he (Major Car- negy) himself attested. They were now all supplied with the Martini-Henri Rifle for use at W imbledon in shooting for the Queen's Prize, and probably next year that would be the only weapon used there. There would be some changes in the organisation of the Volunteers of this County next year. He could not say if the 2nd Corps would be added to, but there was one thing certain, that they would not be swept off the face of the earth. The probability was that there would be two regiments in the county, or they might be consolidated and left as they were. He would now call upon them to give a hearty cheer for Mrs Lleweliin, and expressed a hope that she would con- vey to Mr Lleweliin the sincere appreciation in which they regarded his kindness and his liberality. (Cheers.) They were grateful to him for his support, and to Mrs Lleweliin for favouring them with her presence. (Renewed applause.) The band having played a complimentary selection, Capt. Llewellin gracefully returned thanks on behalf of Mrs Llewellin, and also proposed a vote of thanks to Major Carnegy for presiding. Major Carnegy briefly responded, and the band then struck up the National Anthem, which brought the proceedings to an agreeable close.

In proportion as we return thiuikts for our meroies are we enabled to enjoy and appreciate them. It is difficult, La Lruyere says, to decide whether irresolution makes a man more unfortunate or con- temptible, whether thero iki more harm in making a wrong decision or in making none at all. H you want to "heaps coals of fire" on the inner heart of one who ie in a tearing passion, and ia express- ing it in words, just simply say nothing-do nothing only look at him in silence, and it will shame him, for he has a consciousness of the fact that every one W -h has heard him despises him,

THE MYSTERIOUS DEATH IN LONDON.— VERDICT OF WILFUL MURDER. On Tuesday, the inquest on the body of Miss McLean, daughter of the late Colonel McLcan, C.B., who died in a coffee housi in Seymour Street, Mary- lebone Road, under suspicious circumstances, was rcFii.ued before Mr. Hardwicko.—Mr. Poland watched the case on behalf of the Treasury, and several solicitors were engaged for the parties interested. Mr. Sampson appearing for a man named Paine, with whom deceased lived, and whose address is Broadway, Wor estorshire. Paine, a respectably-dressed man, who disappeared on the last occasion, and for whose arrest a wariant was issued, now attended the Court. The Coroner did not arrive until nearly an hour after the time fixed for the commence- ment of the proceedings, eleven o'clock.—Mrs. Smith, of Alexander Street, Westbourne Park, in whose house dec ased and Paine lo .ig'Hl, said they stayed in her house for ten days. During the time she was t'.crc deceased was mostly in the bedroom. Paine attending her exclu ively. She had for breakfast a litth* salt fish. Sometimes she had nothing. A great quantity of liquor was c .nsuined, and Paine taid deeeas. (Vcould not keep anything on her stomach. Paine had ca!le-I on witn. gs and complimented her on the evidence shvhad given. She said it was not in his favour, and, on his sayin she had better be on her she repl ed. that she had 'poken the truth. lie said it would be ad riht, and he would rot stand aside !or any arnoiiit. 'Oros,- ex.mine(IbN, Mr. Sampson She told Paine deceased ought to be under the. care of the doctor and ought to have better food. He sai he gave her all she required.—Mrs. Pearce, of Malvern, aid she kept dining-room3 at that place. In September Paine and dccoased came to her house and had refreshments, ham and eggs. Paine had a bo: tIc of ale and tho de .eased had nearly a tumbler of whisky, for which Paine paid. Miss McLean looked low-spirited and dn'1, and she fell off her chair as if intoxicated. She seemed to be the worse for liquor when .she entered the house. Cross- examined: I-laiiie treated the deceased as any other man would his wife. He ordered a lot of whisky, which was drunk. Paine said he would bring dec- ased to f-tay at Malvern for the benefit of her health.—James Lewis Paine, recalled, said there were four empty beer barrels in the cellar, at Broadway. lie was married when he was 19, and lived some years with his wife. T' ey disagreed, and he took up with another lady, and his wife was divorced. His second wife was dead. His third wife was now living, and in court. Hu knew Miss McLean for 1(; years, and they wero always together drinking. They used to go to public-houses occasionally, restaurants and respect- able places. (Laughter.) He went about with the deceased whenever lie had the chance, though her family objected to it. "When he went to Broadway to live with Miss McLcan, he found a good s rvant, had good dinners, and they were visited by many people. The servants in time used to get drunk, and one threw a knife at hi.n. (Laughter.) He had had to get rid of three servants because they drank. In fact there was nothing but di inking going on, and he did all he could to put a stop to it. Deceased was a woman welt versed in medicine, and he was sure she did not moan to poison herself. She had been much distressed in consequence of his being locked up at. Stratford-on-Avon. She drank a good dt al from that date. When be went to Broadway de- ceased appeared as his wife, and he took every possible care of hei. He consulted five medical men for her. When he intended to insure her life for X200 he tried to effect an illsunmec for £.;00 upon his own life. They mutually agreed to make wills in each other's favour. Thinii-iig the deceased was pregnant, he brought her to London, and gave her everything she required. Deceased was fond of salt fish, and they bought a bundla of "nisty dry fish.A Juror: You left off tho good living you used to have at Broadway.—Witness, iiint,, said that at last she left off eating anytemg. When the deceased went to live at Mrs. Powell's he desired her to give her whatever she wanted. He never gave the de- ceased neat brandy. He gave her some with Angus- lure bitters to create an appetite. They had one common purse, and tho money was chiefly spent on the lady. He had not spent £ 5 on himself. He put £ o00 in the bank to pay the late Mrs. McLean's debts.—The Coroner: It was not your money; it belonged to dcceiisel.-AVitness: Yes; I had no money, and did not want it. No doctor would pre- scribe for her.—The Coroner: Did not all the doctors say that a reduction of stimulants was the only thing required. — Witness es. — The cor- oner: Then on what grounds did you, having charge of the lady, having taken possession of her and goods, neglect those instructions? witness: I left her in good hands. The Coroner: His explanation is that having got possession of her and her property, he wiped his hands of her. In answer to further questions, the witness denied that he said he came to London to get a certificate, or that he told Mrs. Powell to give the deceased what she wanted as it was a pity to prolong such a life. By the Jury When he discharged t I o servants he hired the gardener's daughter to look after the deceased She was only a child. He thought the deceased would have lived for twenty years.—By Mr. Pridhatn (for the family) He took deceased to Worcester on the 30th of September foi a change. He there saw Mr. (jroloringham, solicitor. Miss McLean gave him instruction to prepare a deed of gift. This was drawn up. It was merely an after-thought that the deed of gift was prepared.—Mr. Simpson objected to this question,—Mr. Graham insisted that it was relevant. In criminal cases there was generally a motive. If this was a criminal case here was the motive.—Witness said the deceased made a deed of gift because she would not leave any. thing to her aunt, Mrs. Wilson, who wante-1 deceased to marry her illegitimate son. (Sensation.)—Dr. Spurin, who made a post mortem examination, said deceased's condition must have taken a year or two's drinking to bring about.—At the close of the exami- nation the jury returned with a verdict to the effect that the deceased died from the excessive use of stimulants, and want of proper nourishment; that .be drink was administered by James Lewis Paine thai>M,ey were of opinion that the girl Fanny Mat- thews w<ta :>n accessory after the fact; that the drink was administtl-,tl by Paine for the purpose of causing death; and that I anuy Matthews assisted him.- The Coroner: Do YOUtnean a verdict of man- slaughter or wilful murder ?—Tho Foreman: Wilful murder, sir. l'aine was then taken into custody. Fanny Mat- thews, a young woman about twenty-four, was also arrested. A painful scene ensued. The aged father of Fanny Matthews was in court, aed begged hard to be allowed to address a few observations to the coroner on behalf of his daughter. The Coroner said that his daughter no doubt would have a fair trial. The old man then, in a state of great excite- ment, suddenly turned round upon Paine, who was standing close by, charged him with being the ruin of his daughter, and was about to strike him. The blow was prevented by the officers of the oourt, and the young woman was led into an adjoining room, "vowing she would tell all she knew, for &he waa not going to be hanged without speaking." -¡

ACCIDENT TO H.M.S. SPRIGHTLY. Late on Tuesday afternoon an accident happened to the despatch vessel Sprightly, Navigating Lieu- tenant in command Arthur Wonliam, as she was engaged in waiting on the Raleigh, preparatory to the latter vessel's departure for Devonport to have defects made good, that she may return to the Aus- tralian station with reliefs. The Sprightly had taken out supernumeraries, and was returning to her harbour moorings, when, in consequence of one of her bear- ings becoming hot, the plummer block broke, stop ping her machinery. A tido was at this Mimru«i t/iio etJi/, ana tire weather was muggy. Her anchors were let go with all practicable dispatch, and she was brought up off Portsmouth Pier. Her proper lights were shown, but she had hardly anchored before one of Pinkford and Co.'s cargo sailings boats camo right across her bows, sustaining considerable damage. Information was communicated to the dockyard authorities, and the steam tug Camel, Mr. Compora master, proceeded from the dockyard to render assistance. The Sprightly was obstructing the harbour channel, but was quickly taken in tow by the Camel and brought to her har- bour moorings, the damaged boat making for the Camber.

TERRIBLE ACCIDENT IN A SALT MINE TWELVE MEN KILLED. Intelligence received at Berlin, on December 16th, from Schwabisch hall, in Wurtemberg, announces an accident on Monday morning, at the Wilhelmsgluck Salt Mine, in which twelve miners were killed, and eight very seriously injured. The twenty men em- ployed in the mine received, before commencing work, the usual supply of explosive material for blasting purposes, when by same carelessness an explosion occurred. The miners, in their excitement, forgot that the door leading out of the mine opened from the inside, and endeavoured to force their way through, thus preventing those who were coming to their assistance from outside from opening the door, until the miners fell down unconscious and severely burned by the explosion. There is some hop* that the lives of two of the injured mm will be saved.

HOLLOWAY'S OINTMENT -"XD PILLS.-Outward in- fiimities.-Before the discovery of these remedies many cases of sores, ulcers, &c-) were pronounced to be hope- lessly incurable, because the treatment pursued tended to destroy the strength it was incompetent to preserve, and to exasperate the symptoms it was inadequate to remove. ilolloway's Pills exert the most wholesome powers oter the unhealthy flesh or skin, without debar- ring the patient from fresh air and exercise, and thus the constitutional vigour is husbanded whilst the most ma- lignant ulcers, abscesses, and skin diseases are in pro- cess of cure. Both Ointment and Pills make the blood richer and purer, instead of permitting it to fall into that. poor and watery state so fatal to many labouring under chronic ulcerations. ————ivmmmm— PoxrvrooL. Pointed by HUGHES &ISON, at their General Printing Offices, for the Proprietor and Publisher, IIENUY HUGHES, Junior, of Penygarnt in the parish of Trevethin, and published at the FUEE Pittss Office,Market St.-D%. 20 1879.

THE SLEEPING BEAUTY. L"1Ie8 suggested by a visit to the supposed tilveping Girl id Turret Grei/i, Great Mttrlotc, Huikx, Monday, October 6, 1S79. At a village ill Buck", which is culled Tunel Green, In a cottage both nM and decayed. There lies a fair creature, just twenty years old, Whom folks call the Great Sleeping )[aid." For eight years, I'm told, she's been snoozing away, And seems likely to snooze eight years more, In that quiet position, so free from all pain, For she cannot, e'en, hear herself snore. You enter tha cottage, and walk round the bed Upon which the fair sleeper i" Heen. And the mother oft states, with a- shake of the head, That to her it all seems like a dream. But for eight weary years she has taken the coin Which her fair sleeping daughter has won From the ladies and gents, who so often drop in, To see how the sleeping is done. Next the muther suùmits to your gaze A teapot of antique design, Which she gently iuserts between the white teeth Of the sleeper who there does recline. j It 1:-1 ,.¡,tiù the contents are extract of beef, Or Thorky's compressed food for sheep But whate'er it may be. it is certain, you see, it keeps her alive while asleep. Oh great is the grief in that sleeping-struck home, Or the mother, poor soul, would not take the small gift So freely by warm-hearted lady bestowed Ere she rides from the scene in her carriage so swift. The coin thus received gois to hide with its fellows, In a nelt little stocking hung under the bed, Whore there's many a bob" and plenty of yellows," For Fort-uue is tickle, yon know it i" saiJ, I'm told that for years the mother's been saving The money thus given for some rainy day, In case the fair sleeper may leave think of taking Of her father undmotber, and going away. But I-hopj the mama will not be disappointed, And the poor old stepfather will not feel afraid For I don't think their daughter her leave will be taking Till she wakes up some morning and finds herself dead. B. C. HARRISON" (T.J.J.)